War Child
by darcyexene
Summary: Prussia never imagined it would turn out this way. After the First World War, Germany was thrown into chaos. Poverty, famine, people throwing riots in the streets. When a solution was finally in sight, Prussia embraced it despite the consequences. He never imagined it would throw him down a rabbit hole he would never be able to climb out of.
1. Part One

**War Child**

I began writing this story during musical rehearsal last year. To give you an idea about the origins of this story: imagine you are a sophomore in high school sitting in a band room with ten other musicians and your band director. You have been playing bassoon for five hours straight now and your lips have been completely rubbed raw, there's blood on your reed, you can no longer feel your fingers, and you're about to pass out. This has been going on everyday for a week, and there will be many more to come. That, my friend, is how this catastrophe was born.

It's been almost a year since then and to be perfectly honest, I haven't even gotten close to finishing the rough draft. Somehow I managed to spit out a final draft of the first chapter that, just as shockingly, my friends were able to convince me to post. So, before you begin, I would like to give you some warnings and information:

* * *

 **Warnings:**

There is language, violence, war, and death.

There is love, loss, heartbreak, and consensual sex (homosexual and heterosexual).

There are more personal and psychological themes such as PTSD, the effects of war, abuse, drastic character change, self harm, suicide, and rape.

* * *

Everything I wrote, I wrote for a reason and I didn't insert any cringy, angsty, or dramatic scenes or phrases just for giggles.

I spent months doing research that I'm still not even close to done with so that I could, to the best of my ability, accurately base this on real events during WWII and the Cold War. Terrible things happened in those decades that I am going to do my best to bring to life in hopes people will better educate themselves about what has happened in the not-so-distant past. Things that in many ways are still happening today.

Now, don't get me wrong, this won't be 100% death and sadness! There will be happy moments, fluffy moments, and hilarious moments!

One last thing, I would like to point out that character development plays a major part in this story, so if you don't like how some of the characters are portrayed when they're first introduced, good, that's probably how it's supposed to be, unless I royally screwed up (which is also very likely).

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this and please give feedback, I'd really appreciate it!


	2. Chapter 1

**Preface**

I never imagined it would turn out this way. After the First World War, Germany was thrown into chaos. There were riots in the streets, a Socialist Revolution boiling in Berlin, thousands of ex-soldiers formed violent paramilitary groups to fight the revolution, and over 30 political parties existed that acted like savage warring tribes. No one could have guessed that one of the most obscure groups of people with an obscure leader would gather so much strength, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and these were desperate times. In 1929, our economy all but collapsed and it seemed there were only two ways out: Nazism or Socialism. We watched in awe as Hitler captivated the split nation and drove out anyone who opposed him.

He became chancellor out of pressure from the people and the shared national fear and hate for the communists and the Jews. He was loved by all; he was going to right the wrongs of the territorial settlement at the end of the First World War, and the world let him. No one wanted another war, but we all wanted our land, so he expanded our territory by simply asking nicely. He was a peaceful man, he only shot those who disagreed with him and approved the murdering of those impure. But now, he wanted to take it a step further, and like before, we went along with it. The countries of France and Britain warned that if he invaded Poland, there would be war.

So, on the first of September, 1939, we invaded Poland.

* * *

 **World War II**

 **September 19, 1939**

I stared down the barrel of my rifle, through the dust and debris, aiming at a Pole hiding in the grass on a small hill. When my gun went off his body fell back with a sickening thud and an inhuman scream. I cracked a smile. This was war, an art I had perfected.

Artillery fired all around us, buildings burned, and machine guns roared. Shells exploded and hit trees, Polish cannons, and Polish men. It seemed that the smoke never cleared and fighting could be heard behind every cloud and explosion. There was yelling all over, screams of orders and screams for mercy. It would unnerve anyone, but me, no, I thrived off of the chaos of war. I pushed myself off the ground and forward into the battlefield where I was met with an uplifting scene, my men picking off the last fighters. Every shot I heard lifted my spirits as the wind picked up and the smoke cleared.

A horse that once must have been pulling cannons, was running, panicked by the chaos. I watched as the mare was shot and ended up on the ground with the rest of the bodies. The shooters laughed and I couldn't help but chuckle as well. After ten days of back and forth fighting all along the Bzura River, we pushed on to Warsaw.

* * *

Poland in mid-September was a beautiful thing. The trees began to change color and birds chirped over the noise of tanks moving at a speed never before seen in an army so large. Most towns we passed by were all obliterated by the Luftwaffe that came through before us and nothing stood in our way as we rolled through the fields of Poland. We marched on collected, composed, and stoic for less than a day before we began seeing the signs of the city ahead.

The dirt roads made way into cobblestone and then to debris. Dust and ash fell from the sky as the south side of Warsaw came into view. Everything was gone. Never in my entire life had I seen such destruction. It looked as if God himself had reached down and flattened parts of the city with his fist. I felt pride rise up inside me as I remembered that this was us. We did this. As we made our way closer I saw no one but the dead and the dying. Men with their limbs crushed, women with bullets in their chests, and children crying over their mutilated parents. I sat still in our halftrack and felt every bump as we rolled on.

* * *

I spotted him after almost half an hour of navigating through the soldiers of the 10th Army lined up just outside the city, my brother. He was surrounded by other soldiers. I began shouting and waving as I ran toward him at lightning speed.

"Tell me everything!" We spoke at the same time which caused a fit of laughter. Germany spoke first, yelling over the sound of planes.

"The Polish just won't give up. You should have seen it! The planes came in and bombed everything. We held our defenses here and, and, wow." He was so ecstatic, like a little boy playing with toys on Christmas Eve, his eyes were all lit up. "Look at what we did!" I looked around, he had hit the heart of Poland in no less than eight days. It was not at all like the First World War, quite the opposite in fact. That relieved me. I would not be watching my soldiers, my people, and my friends die slow, agonizing deaths. This was going to be a good thing.

"Look at what _you_ did, Germany. I'm proud of you." I gestured to nothing in particular, but found myself accidentally pointing at a large hole in the ground. A German plane erupted into flames in the distance and another flew low, followed by machine gun fire and distant screams. "When do we enter?"

"When they can't take the bombs anymore."

* * *

That night whole sections of the city burned as incendiary bombs were dropped. I turned to my brother, "how long has the city been burning?

"Every night."

"Wow." I stared up at the tops of burning buildings.

"Mhm," he nodded.

"It's so different, you know, from any other wars I've ever been in. It would take months to get this far, stalemates could last for weeks or even years, but you're well aware of that." We held a shared look of concern and understanding.

"Blitzkrieg. That's what people have been calling it."

"Lighting war, I like it. It's quick and fast and casualties are low. You know, I think Hitler was right, this is going to be good." I looked at the city as another incendiary bomb was dropped. "It does look a little like lighting."

We spent several days like this, watching the city slowly crumble while we lost so few men. That didn't last much longer when we were ordered to attack on the 23 of September. The Polish held their own and we were successfully repulsed; however, three days later, after another bombardment, we pushed once more. Germany and I were sent to the west side of Warsaw with five divisions tasked with the mission to take the forts of Mokotów, Dąbrowski, and Czerniaków as four others closed in to do the same on the east side. This day would live in infamy for years to come.

* * *

It was armageddon from the start. My brother and I went with mechanized infantry and were met with hellfire almost immediately. Bullets whizzed passed my face and hit the pavement somewhere behind me. I dove behind the carcass of a horse and instructed the men behind me to take cover as well. Just as I had peeked out to take aim at the shooters, the building the volley had been coming from burst into flames and shrapnel. The world muffled and shook but I managed to find the source of the explosions. Hundreds upon hundreds of planes swarmed in like locust and my men and I jumped out from our hiding places, advancing farther into the broken city.

As part of the front lines we were the closest to the bombs dropped. They made devilish noises, like having cotton tear inside your ears but a hundred times louder. The bombs left nothing untouched and seeing dead children smothered further by falling buildings, was almost crushing. Almost.

Smoke filled the sky from the flames that trickled down from the open windows of skeletal buildings and snaked upwards.

A solo soldier went ahead to prepare for our next advancement but as soon as he left the cover of a broken building's stone wall, a disgusting crack rang out and he dropped. Blood pooled around him.

"Everyone, get the hell back!" Like any rational person, I assumed that the shots had come from somewhere behind the wall, where we were lucky to be sheltered. But of course, God was not on my side that day and I became well aware of that when the man standing next to me fell like a sack of flour.

Men scattered in all directions, searching for cover along the wall that stretched for a distance too far to make it away unscathed. I slammed myself into the rocks behind an almost too small mound of rubble and pulled my brother to cover as well.

I watched in horror as my outfit fell like birds being shot out of the sky. A private I had had a drink with just the day before lay dead next to a boy-soldier I had met only briefly.

This young man frantically began to crawl his way to the relative safety of our mound. So, without exactly thinking, I wasn't much of a fan of that, I scrambled along the debris and grabbed his wrist. Bullets kicked up rocks as they struck the rubble around me and somehow, I managed to pull him back unscathed.

The _boy_ couldn't have been any older than 18 and the shook as he held onto my arm for dear life.

This war was good I kept telling myself, this war was good.

I looked towards my brother who appeared terrified as he spoke: "What do we do?"

I peeked out from behind our mound and said, "We just have to push o- Germany?!" I stared through the haze in shock as my brother ran towards the gunner's building. Bullets exploded as they made contact with the ground all around him.

Although I had practically shit myself watching my little brother run into a spray of bullets, war had conditioned my brain to take advantage of moments like this. While the gunner was distracted, I rushed all abled men to safety inside the building and convinced a few to help pull the wounded inside. The not-so-distant shots echoed out on the other side of the wall until they didn't. They stopped just as suddenly as they came on.

I peered out from behind the entrance to the building and saw no sign of the gunner; or my brother. Doing my best to ignore the worst possible outcome that was now gnawing at my conscious, I walked back to the men.

Every footstep echoed like gunshots as I walked past a fellow soldier and friend I knew well. One look at him and I knew he was dead. I walked on.

I spotted the boy-soldier sitting nestled between the back wall and a boulder. He flinched as I walked over and took a seat next to him. I patted his back in the most comforting way I could, which was not at all comforting, and made him cower even more. Was he cowardly or was I jaded?

The screaming of a soldier near us as someone pressed hard onto a bullet wound in his calf was background noise as I listened intently for any sign of Germany, or god forbid the enemy.

I wasn't stupid enough to leave my men and go run after my brother, whom I trusted to be smart. I raised him to be calm and brave and he's grown to be just that. It may not have seemed to my fellow soldiers I cared much for my brother, for I had coldly let him run into a spray of bullets to his certain death and now seemed to sit here completely unfazed, but he would be fine. I kept telling myself. He would be fine. He was _my_ brother after all.

The screaming from the opposite side of the ruined building hadn't ceased. The mens' cussing made me chuckle slightly before I looked away and towards a sight that made me cuss myself. Germany was walking calmly toward our outfit. He smiled through the dirt and small specks of blood that covered his face.

I think he was about to say something but by the time he had opened his mouth I had already began crushing him in my arms. I may have let him run into a spray of bullets to his certain death, but the love was there.

Germany never got his words out before I spotted several German soldiers coming our way. "Hey do know where we are?" I shouted at them. I had gotten so turned around in the city ruins that we could have been in Oz for all I knew.

A high ranking soldier gestured for the help of my wounded men. "This is Mokotów."

It took a few seconds before I realized what that meant. No one was here, we'd only run into about a dozen fierce Polish soldiers, and everything just seemed so abandoned.

I turned to my brother. "It's over. Poland is ours."


	3. Chapter 2

I found myself laying in bed at 19:00 staring at the dark ceiling. It was sometime in October, time crawled slowly and the days kind of ran into each other. Things weren't too eventful.

Germany and I left soon after our victory. We didn't wait around for all the laws and ceremony and hoorah that came with a conquest. We had a war to plan, and to be brutally honest, I was excited. Poland had fallen quickly, and after Austria and Czechoslovakia, it seemed luck was on our side.

Now, Poland, just like he had shown many times before, didn't just roll over without a fight. It was much more like a rabbit defending its baby from a hungry wolf. The rabbit would fight tooth and nail to save its child but no matter how hard it fought, the wolf would get it's fill.

My brother and I, we were wolves.

Lord, my brother. I raised him from a child, borne of unusual circumstances, borne from the corpse of a dead nation. Isn't that odd? For so much of history I've seen things break and fall apart, but with him, to see a collection of small kingdom states join together and say, "yeah, I'll work with my enemies of hundreds of years." That's something.

I mean, to put the credit where it's due: that was all me; but that kid, he's gonna have an interesting future. A bright one.

He's shown it in battle. His actions in Warsaw took me completely by surprise. Maybe he was spontaneous (doubtful) or maybe he was trying to mimic what I would do (why wouldn't he?), but he needs to be his own man, he's not reckless. However, I did admire his courage. I wonder who he got that from?

Eventually I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up the sun shone through the curtains and I could hear children playing outside.

Getting up was not something I wanted nor planned to do, but like I did most days, I got up and readied myself for another day of the usual nonsense.

* * *

I was _not_ pleased to walk down the stairs and _Austria_ be the first person I see.

He was the only one who resided here permanently besides Germany and I. He didn't do a goddamn thing, just mooch and schmooze.

He was part of Germany now so certainly he could do more than just sit on his ass. We were the most formidable of the axis. Hungary, Bulgaria, Romania, Italy, Japan, we held meetings while he just sat on his ass and picked at his teeth.

Well, luckily I was able to walk past him without him noticing, due to his nose being buried in a book about who the fuck cares.

I entered the kitchen where my brother sat at the table reading the newspaper and wearing his uniform. Nothing off at all besides this little scab he still had on his chin from the battle.

"What grand things is my little brother up to today?"

"An important meeting."

"And I'm not invited?" I'm not sure what else I expected. I tried be sarcastic in my question because I didn't blame my brother for this, but Hitler denoted me to a state and I fumed for years. A state! He kept me out of decisions and meeting and strategies. I knew best after all, right?!

"Can you sneak me in?" I nudged his side with my elbow a little and took the seat across from him.

"You know I'd love to." He paused, "I'll tell you all about it later." Germany got up, grabbed his coat, and headed out.

"What the fuck?" I shouted after him. It was like I was the oldest at the family reunion who wasn't allowed to sit at "the big kid table."

* * *

Well, my little brother left me to fend for myself (not always the best idea), and without anything else to do but come into contact with Austria, I took a walk.

We lived in a nice row house in the busy South part of old Berlin, near a square that held markets almost everyday. Today was one of those days. It was October, Autumn, which had to be one of my favorite seasons. The trees rot in such a way they managed to make a symphony out of death. The kids enjoyed it too. I watched as they ran around the markets pissing off old people by throwing leaves into the fruit stands and getting a lot of angry shouts called after them.

There was so much history in this city. So much I remembered vividly and a lot I wished I could forget. If the cobblestones under my feet could talk they'd be able to tell some crazy stories. Festivals, family, famine, plague, battles, the best of which always involved me.

My walks often led me to places I didn't mean to go to. However, the building I found myself in front of was not at all unfamiliar; it's spires and red bricks brought back fond memories. Of course, it wasn't the most impressive church in Berlin, but it had been there long before I could remember. The doors were wide open and I could see the white vaulted ceilings, the stained glass windows, and the large ornate altar. In all honesty, the place gave me the creeps. I walked away.

* * *

It had been a few hours since I had arrived home and the sounds of Bach played from the back of the house where Austria sat despite my many requests for him to "shut the fuck up". I managed to make myself lunch and was currently sitting in the living room reading when the front door opened. I didn't have to turn my head to know it was Germany who had walked in.

"What was the meeting about?" I asked and got no answer, just the sounds of the piano in the background. I looked up from the newspaper and saw my brother staring at the floor. He looked like he was debating whether or not to tell me.

"Ludwig, I'm your brother, not a stranger or a spy."

He hung his coat up and said, while still facing the wall, "They are talking of an invasion of France."

I paused in shock. "Ah, France. The same France we got stuck in for four years?" Once again I tried to be sarcastic but came off as frustration. That worked too.

"Yes, they want to invade through Belgium and push back the French to the River Somme." He was his usual calm in this explanation.

I stood up and put my hands on the coffee table in front of the sofa. "That's the plan? We're just going to repeat 1914? Were you not there?!"

Someone grabbed my wrist and I looked over to see my brother, looking very worried. "Gilbert, sit down." I didn't.

"No one likes the plan, not even Hitler." He paused, seeing me ease up. "But Hitler does want to invade France, just not that way. I'm with him, he hasn't been wrong yet." Germany looked so sure of himself that I had a hard time believing he wasn't right. Maybe he was.

"That doesn't mean he won't be wrong this time!" I screamed. Even if Germany was right, and I believed he was, he still needed to learn to be skeptical.

"I trust him. He's a fantastic leader who is going to do great things for this country."

I paused. "We should think about this. Time, war takes time."

"Not anymore! You saw Poland, this is a new kind of war, we could have Europe in our hands, brother!" He was giddy again and it was getting to me. I smiled and I guess I was still drowsy because his excitement had gotten me worked up. Maybe this could go right, of course, only if I was involved.

I walked away from that conversation not exactly sure where my stance was. I completely agreed with Anschluss, Sudetenland, the invasion of Poland, and his action with the Jews. But France? Hitler was a mad man, a crazy genius. Germany was right, he hadn't been wrong yet. He was greatly improving the nation, and I would forgive anything for the nation.

Of course, we had our land back, which was our original goal but Hitler was hungry, and I had always had a big appetite. I've never been satisfied. I'd go along with it, for now.

* * *

Months went by and only once or twice was I permitted to sit in on the plannings of the invasion. They were hectic. Some wanted this others wanted this. Old or new, fast or slow. It was a nightmare and I put in my five cents, sometimes loudly, but it rarely amounted to anything.

After months of not being heard, I came up with the conclusion that I was no use in a meeting room anymore. At the same time, some time in January, an invasion of Denmark and Norway was planned completely without me. I looked it over and found it wasn't _too_ bad, of course I could have done better. Maybe I could be of a little more use up north, so I volunteered.

I would be leaving tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 3

**Italy POV**

I hummed loudly an old partisan song as I worked pulling on my dress slacks; the ones that would dazzle the ladies and make a good impression on Germany. Mostly it was for the ladies. They made my butt look nice.

Truly, I have never been the most sure-footed person. That was my excuse whenever my clumsiness got the better of me. I didn't get to make an excuse this time, I didn't need to. After falling on my back while pulling on pants like a toddler, I tipped my head back into the rug to look at Romano walking in on what to me seemed like the ceiling. I chuckled as he crossed his arms and scolded me: "Hurry the fuck up. We're going to be late."

Eventually I managed to get myself together and into a car with my brother, who was quite reluctant to be going to a party with "that kraut." To be quite frank, I wasn't entirely paying attention when Germany told me when or what this party was, and of course Romano was no help since he didn't seem to care at all.

It was 20:00 and quite dark. The street lights and the moon illuminated the Berlin nightlife. I've never particularly enjoyed this city; the people are cold, distant, and reserved. That was not at all the case at night, however. The one thing I truly liked about Germany is that when they cut loose, they cut loose. Though I assumed I wouldn't be going to one of Berlin's famous nightclubs. That wasn't my Germany.

I was excited for him, he was succeeding at so much and watching him grow made me happy, and knowing I'm his ally made me happy, and nothing he could do could make me change my mind.

Just as long as my people were happy, I was gonna be happy.

* * *

I held on to Germany's strong arm while he spoke to a man who looked important. He had grey hair and lots of shiny medals on his pristine white dress uniform, but besides that, I wasn't really paying attention, I was taking in the sounds of the party: laughing, music, drinks. It made me happy. Life was good, and Germany was here.

I was brought back to earth by a word: camp. Giving Germany a squeeze I said, "I'm gonna get us some wine."

Romano talked long and hard about all the horrors of the Third Reich and what _had_ to be going on under the surface. One of the many things he mentioned were these atrocious camps where Jews and communists were sent to die. Of course, I didn't believe him. There is no way in hell Germany would let something like that happen, so I would always brush it off. I looked back at Germany and saw he was no longer with the scary man, it was a woman. A _beautiful_ woman. She wore a red dress and had gorgeous blonde hair. Her red lips were plump and moist and- I walked straight into a flabbergasted waiter holding wine, barely missing knocking over every single glass on his fancy tin. Quickly, I grabbed two glasses and turned- no, three, I'd forgotten one for Germany and headed back in the opposite direction.

"Helloo~ What's your name, beautiful?" I said to her after walking over. After putting down two of the glasses, I handsomely kissed her knuckles.

She blushed. "Marie."

"Would you like a drink?"

"That would be nice."

"Good thing I brought one just for you." I smiled widely as I handed her the drink in my hand. When I turned back to the table to grab my glass of wine I noticed Germany had vanished. No competition then? Thanks!

Grabbing my glass I asked, "so, what brings you here tonight?"

"My husband's work."

"Ah, he should know better than to leave a beautiful woman alone. Someone may try and flirt with you."

She blushed. "All the ladies must fall head over heels for you."

"Well-" At that moment Germany walked up to the table and glanced sourly between Marie and me. His harsh face and cold eyes, which were becoming more usual, must have scared her off because when I turned to her she kissed my cheek and left. "You chased away the lady!"

"She's just a woman, Italy."

"Her _name_ is Marie." I said so matter-of-factly.

"You just called her 'the lady.'"

"So?"

Germany sighed and looked to his side as if he was expecting someone.

"Hey, where's Prussia?" I asked, suddenly noticing the lack of the loud and very distinct presence. "Weird he'd miss an opportunity for attention and a room full of women."

"Denmark." Germany made a weird face when he said that. Discomfort? Guilt?

"I'm sure he's having just as much fun as we are!" I said to reassure him.


	5. Chapter 4

_Ok, I have to start off by saying I had to change Norway to Denmark in the last chapter because I got some of my facts mixed up. I'm so sorry!_

* * *

I stood on the top of a wooden bar, beer soaking my hair, and the top half of my uniform somewhere outside. Excitement filled my lungs as I joined my fellow soldiers in a wildly out of tune drinking song.

We were in a town in Denmark that I didn't bother to learn the name of and had managed to capture the whole of the country in two hours. The Danish bartender was less than pleased and all the locals had fled the scene of our victory celebration. A fellow soldier named Alrick crawled up onto the bar next to me and proceeded to kick his legs in time with our atrocious singing. This continued as half the occupants of the bar were on tables and ended when one slipped and fell off, laughing. A bunch of his fellow drunkards dragged him and dumped him somewhere outside where my shirt was. Honestly, I don't remember anything after that.

* * *

That night was one of many nights we spent goofing off. I heard that in Norway the Norwegians were putting up a valiant fight, but here in Denmark, we celebrated our swift victory, our only casualty being a private's dignity after slipping in fish guts.

The Danish greeted us as we were: conquers. We weren't very welcome company but we were here and hell if we weren't going to make the most of it.

Our reasons for being here were a bluff. Really, we just wanted the ports and the land. We depended on Swedish iron ore, and the vast majority came out Norway. Britain and France threatened our magnificent presentation of military manufacturing with a blockade up north. They were too chicken to face us in the form of a conventional war.

We said we were protecting the countries of Denmark and Norway from an occupation by the colonial terrors of Britain and France. Not a total lie. But now with control of these lands, we had Holland and France surrounded.

I often wondered about the plans for a supposed invasion of France. I knew my reason for being here in Denmark was so I was occupied and had something to do instead of constantly hounding my brother for information. Who the hell were these " _military leaders_ " to think they didn't need me?!

I did do my best to think optimistically about this operation. With me being blind, deaf, and dumb to the goings on in the military I couldn't afford to be so pessimistic when I had no way of changing our situation. I was in the back seat now and I hated nothing more in this world.

* * *

I was stationed in Denmark a full week and a half before I got a telegram telling me to make my way _back_ to Berlin. Well, when I got home I was received with the long overdue telling of information: there were decisions made on the plan invade France, and the very vague route explained to me seemed all too familiar _._

I learned this interesting nugget from a letter sitting on the kitchen counter. It was for me from Germany and read like a mother telling her child not to forget to wash the dishes. Despite the fact that the tone of the letter put a small hole in my impenetrable pride, the contents of this message were much more concerning.

I had paced the length of the living room enough times to leave ruts in the floorboards and thinking about the stupidity of the plan before my brother returned home. When the door opened I paced my way right up into his face.

"I hope you came up with a better and less outdated strategy," I said through grit teeth.

"Yes, we have."

"And..?"

"We are invading through the Ardennes." My breath stopped for a second as I attempted to process what he had said. I took a deep breath to calm myself down.

I spoke slowly while I bit my tongue to keep from lashing out at my brother. "You never consulted me or asked for my opinion or told me a thing. Why?" I knew why: it's because I've become irrelevant, unimportant.

"The ones in charge don't care about what you think. You don't matter to them." He was always blunt.

"Do you care what I think?"

He paused and I suppressed my anger, "yes, of course."

"Then why?"

He said nothing, he actually looked helpless. I turned and began to walk away.

"We couldn't have done this without you!" My brother shouted after me. "We've been using your tactics, your order. It's because of you we have conquered Europe."

Turning back I screamed, "Because of me? You have left me out of everything! If you truly want to see what raw power is, what conquest is, you should've asked me!" I walked back up to him, doing my best to try and calm myself down. "I feel like I have earned the right to an explanation."

He stared at me in surprise before answering: "ok."

My brother sat down on the living room couch and began to explain the whole plan of attack. Not the explanation I wanted, but I kept quiet. Forces would attack the maginot line while the bulk of the army moved through the Ardennes and Holland. As he continued to explain, my skepticism did not diminish. We were going to take on the French army, the most powerful army in Europe, with only a fraction of our troops? The success of our attack depended entirely on this new blitzkrieg tactic, which had been successful in Poland and up North, but how were we to achieve the necessary speed and surprise in one of the most impenetrable forests in Europe? Whoever orchestrated this plan had made an assumption that an attack on the Netherlands would be swift and successful; they also assumed that the Belgium Army would crumble with due speed. So much was up to chance. Could we cross the Ardennes, which many had viewed as nearly impossible? If we were to use part of our forces as pons, could our weakened numbers fight against the expected French counter-attack in the Somme region? Fighting a battle at the site of our last military disaster wasn't my idea of "genius."

Yet through all this, Germany seemed confident.

"What do you think?"

"Blitzkrieg through one of the densest forests in Europe?"

He nodded.

"This will definitely be entertaining."

* * *

 _I'm sorry about the length and quality of this chapter and how long it took to come out. I have been very busy with my senior year and am in no way abandoning this story. The biggest reason this took so long to write was because I've been having more fun writing other parts of this story than this part, so didn't really have the motivation for this chapter. The next two chapters will definitely be longer and more entertaining since they will be about the invasion of France. Thanks for putting up with me!_


	6. Chapter 5, kinda

So sorry it's taking so long. Chapter 5 takes soooo much research and although I am a WWII reenactor, I am not well versed in the inner workings of the German Heer (as I reenact the Red Army) and I want to get things RIGHT. Because of the immense amount of research, I have been working on other parts of the story while I compile my research for Chapter 5, so I'm not slacking off!

In the meantime, please have this sad HRExItaly animatic I made as a peace offering:

watch?v=4309SerNLUg


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